A Fool and a Thief
by Eveilae
Summary: [WILLOW fiction] You are a fool, then, Airk. And you're nothing but a worthless thief! Airk finds Madmartigan stealing a bit more than his heart.


**More CHALLENGES! Yes, I am becoming a challenge whore, sorry.  
Challenge: **I am known to night and horses and the desert.

**I wanted Willow this morning and was overrun by the appealing thought of Airk/Madmartigan love. I wonder if anyone even writes Willow fanfiction . . . Yaoi in here, mind you.**

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**Two Warriors in a Tent**

Madmartigan has been everywhere. He lived where it was scortching hot to begin with, and couldn't imagine anything else until he ran off from his mother, whom none can argue was a good role model. She spent more time drinking and having sex than paying attention to her own seven children. Madmartigan wonders sometimes if she even noticed that her eleven-year-old son had run off.

He certainly had tales to tell from his youth, but rarely brings them up. Though others, safe in their bed and skin might find them exciting and interesting, they were anything but to an adolescent relatively innocent to the world despite the childish idea that he was practically an adult. So they remain secrets, except for those quiet nights when he sat in that tent with Airk and the two of them spoke in muffled whispers.

Airk. He doesn't really want to think about him anymore, not since his death (and his subsequent deathwish of _win this war for me_). It wasn't so much that Madmartigan thought he _couldn't_ win the war (because they did) but that Airk had used up his last bit of life so ask him to do something he would have done anyway.

You know, instead of maybe _admitting_ finally, that he harbored more than friendly feelings for Madmartigan. The soon-to-be-king had felt an odd spurt of rage, and not at Kael, either. He almost went through with his threat of cutting off Airk's head and sticking it on a pig pole. Bastard.

But the feeling was gone as soon as it had come, and he went off to slay Mr. Big And Strong Kael. Now all he had were memories of the time he shared with the blonde man.

And what times they were. Madmartigan had enlisted himself to Galadorn's army on a complete whim, and found himself riding side by side with Airk. The whole company seemed silent, and if there was anything Madmartigan hated, it was silence.

"So, why're _you_ here?" He asked in what he felt were pleasant tones. Airk gave him a near glare, as if he wouldn't allow himself to directly insult a fellow warrior.

"I am completely loyal to Galadorn and would do my best to fight for—" He's interrupted by Madmartigan's loud, rambunctious laughter. This time his mask slipped and he shoots the dark-haired man a furious glance. "What are you laughing at? Isn't that why you're here, too?"

Madmartigan snorted derisively, as if it's not bloody likely. "Would he fight for you or me? Does the loyalty run both ways? I doubt it. So, no, I won't be fighting for him. I'll fight for my own skin, and if it comes down to you or me, mate, it'll most definitely be me."

Airk was shocked by this obvious display of selfishness and treachery, as were most of the warriors around Madmartigan. Instead of immediately notifying their commander of his words, though, they let it pass in silence. They wouldn't lift a finger to help him in the upcoming battle, was all.

The battle had a different outcome than they expected though, because the young man came out nearly unscathed, with his sword bloody and a morbid grin on his face. They all avoided him from then on, which was just fine with him. He hadn't joined up for the company. He soon gained a reputation as a pervert, a liar and an amazing warrior. All either feared him or hated him, and a good number did both.

"Where do you come from?" It was an uneventful night in the castle, and several warriors were seated around a fire, enjoying the heat and company. Madmartigan was as surprised to find himself there as Airk was, and even more so that Airk came over and spoke to him.

Surprised by this sudden question, Madmartigan didn't answer for a bit. When he did, his voice was oddly subdued and his tone serious. "From behind me."

Airk rolled his eyes unpleasantly. "Well, that's not very vague at all. What did where you used to live _look_ like, if you can't be specific."

Once again, Madmartigan's response was curt. "I am known to the night and horses and desert." Airk's eyes widened in response.

"I don't believe you! I don't know _anyone_ who's been in the desert. No way, you're a damned liar." Even so, Airk had his doubts. Madmartigan was being oddly serious about all this. Usually he would prattle on with his lies, as if the longer they were, the more believable they would become.

"I don't care whether you _believe_ me or not," Madmartigan said slyly, moving his tongue around his mouth to remove some food from his teeth.

That was the start of it. Every so often they would find each other at these get-togethers and talk, almost as if they liked each other, almost as if they were friends. And when the two of them were off on the same campaign, somehow one of them would manage to get into the same tent as the other.

It might have gone on like that forever, soft voice and vague glances, if Madmartigan had only been a polite young man. He was anything but, so this stage of their relationship was doomed to fail.

Airk was telling him about some trip to the river in his childhood when he felt a hand snaking up his shirt. He jumped at the contact, and stared at the figure hidden in the shadows in surprise. "What the hell are you _doing_?" he hissed, but he didn't get as response beyond a hand on his cheek and a kiss on the lips.

Madmartigan wasn't soft or gentle in anything he did, so it came as no surprise that his kisses were wild and harsh. He bit at Arik's lips until they bled, and still the blonde could do nothing but moan in the back of his throat and make feeble attempts to put the other man away.

That night they had sex, and it hurt terribly. Everything Airk had ever done with Madmartigan seemed to hurt, in one way or another, and this was no different. He tried to keep from waddling the next day as Madmartigan seemed oddly smug about the whole thing. One of his companions asked him what had happened to his lips, and Airk couldn't help but blush. He muttered some pathetic excuse and practically ran off, his mental Madmartigan laughing at him.

Airk refused to talk to the other man the whole day, and when they finally arrived back at Galadorn's castle, he kept to his room, even though he knew Madmartigan would probably be down at the fire, expecting him. No way, he wasn't going to give him the _pleasure_ of molesting him again! What was he, a _woman_!

He felt asleep into a restless, dreamless state, out of which he was jolted out of by a rough, warm feeling on his stomach. He felt a heavy weight on his legs, as if someone were straddling them . . .

"Madmartigan!" He cries out as loudly as he dared, opening his eyes to complete darkness. "Get the hell out of my _room_!"

The other man didn't respond, and instead kept on going lower . . . and lower . . . Despite the complaints Airk let out often, the two of them knew he was enjoying himself just as much as Madmartigan was. Once again he ended up bruised and sore, but before Madmartigan could slip away to his own room, Airk reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back down onto the bed.

Madmartigan hissed when he found Airk's arms slipping around his waist and pulling him into an embrace. No, Madmartigan didn't _do_ hugs and sugar and spice. It was all hard and angry and painful, or it didn't happen at all. Even so, sensation of Airk's body against his own felt . . . good. His mother never held him, and it came as a surprise to him that he actually enjoyed this.

And on it went, with the two of them getting more and more accustomed to the odd roles they found themselves playing. Then Madmartigan found himself getting bored with fighting. "Airk, I'm leaving, and I'm going to do it soon. Come with me." Madmartigan didn't _ask_ nicely, he demanded. He fully expected Airk's reluctant acceptance, and was taken aback when Airk frowned instead.

"What the hell do you mean? I'm still loyal to Galadorn, and until the moment he no longer has any need for me, I will fight as one of his warriors." Madmartigan never knew whether to hate or be immensely amused by Airk's perpetual state of righteousness.

"You're still going on about this stupid loyalty crap? What has Galadorn ever done for you but ask for your life and your taxes? I know you're more than those sheep that join this army. You should know better than this, Airk." He ended this little lecture with a contemptuous snort, and moved to stand. "I'm deserting tonight. It's now or never, Airk."

Airk turned his face away from Madmartigan, as if not looking at him would make it easier. Madmartigan realized that the choice Airk was making, and his grin held no amusement. "You are a fool, then," he uttered and began to walk off.

Airk's pride got the best of him then, but he turned back to look at Madmartigan. "And you're nothing but a worthless _thief_!" he hissed angrily.

Madmartigan stopped dead in his tracks, and looked back at the blonde. "Oh yeah? Well, what have I ever stolen from you? Besides your virginity, of course." This time the laughter is back in his voice and smirk, and when Airk couldn't answer, he knew he'd won, and went off.

Airk wanted to retort that he'd stole his heart.


End file.
